Scared

I am not scared of myself only because I haven’t had the time.

The time to think about the way I am, the way I think, and my priorities, and my ‘humanity’, if I have been vested with it, and be scared with the results. Haven’t had the time.

Especially the humanity part. I don’t enjoy the privileges of the average human, like the ability to feel the common emotions. If a situation arises that requires some such emotion, I get so worried about convincingly displaying it that I don’t have the time or the privacy to see what emotion I really feel about it.

Like, for example, a relative died when I was young, and it looked funny to me the way everyone was crying and wailing, so I couldn’t help laughing.

Now that’s a problem, wouldn’t you agree?

I try to escape all this by staying away as much as possible, but maybe someday I have to face it. Face who I am.

 

Then, I fear, I’ll have all the time to be scared.

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